


Learned Helplessness

by OzWilde



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Sexual Harassment, Multi, Physical Abuse, Underage Drinking, normal level of substance use for bmc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:09:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26091661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OzWilde/pseuds/OzWilde
Summary: This is fanfiction of Fangirlwriting's fic Two Player Rejects! It won't make any sense if you haven't read that first!"... he might've tried to tell [his moms] when he was drunk once, but Michael gets weird and sad anyways when he's drunk, so."- TPR, Ch 13Michael gets his first opportunity to tell someone about the Squip since he was forced to take one over a year ago.  Of course he fucks it up.
Relationships: Jeremy Heere & Michael Mell, Michael Mell & Michael Mell's Parents
Comments: 3
Kudos: 6





	Learned Helplessness

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Fangirlwriting](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fangirlwriting/gifts).



> I don't have any affiliation with Fangirlwriting's actual fic and this isn't canon to it at all! I was just curious about the implication that Michael tried to tell someone about the Squip at some point, and wanted to write this out, I don't know if the actual version of this scene is going to be touched on, but I had to write this out. I got the author's permission beforehand. Two Player Rejects is an awesome fic if you love the trope of Michael getting Squipped it's one of the best and deserves way more love! If you can check it out, please give Fangirlwriting more kudos and comments!
> 
> *Warning!*
> 
> There's a pretty uncomfortable 'do you wanna hang'-esque scene where an older girl tries to take advantage of an obviously underage and inexperienced Michael. It doesn't get far, but the Squip is encourages it and Michael doesn't know how to deal with it.

**[Hey bro please read the Note before reading the fic, it's important!]**

“No way. I’m not going in there.”

Weird Al Yankovic stopped halfway up the steps to the porch of a large cookie cutter suburban house, turning to raise one angular eyebrow at the young man standing frozen on the sidewalk behind him. The parody song artist said nothing, merely stared expectantly. A shadow moved across a square of yellow light cast on the ground from the main window, and the boy moved skittishly away from it, although he’d already been standing in shadow. Whoever had moved by the window hadn’t seemed disturbed by the two outside, and sounds of laughter and shouting and contemporary pop continued from within the home.

“You didn’t say it was going to be a high school party,” the kid, Michael, hissed through his teeth. It wasn’t usually a good idea to go against the wishes of the life coach from hell, and he could probably count on one hand the number of times he’d done so without facing some form of disproportionate consequence or punishment. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t try. At least the supercomputer in his brain was a devil-you-know kind of threat, who knew what a house full of drunk teenagers would do to him?

It was his life dammit, and he was going to wrestle as many token gestures of free will out of the Squip as he could manage. 

Back lit by the lights coming from the house’s windows, the silhouette of Weird Al remained eerily silent, and Michael felt himself quickly losing his nerve. He took a breath that he didn’t quite manage to control the shudder on, “You told my moms we were going to be at Jeremy’s place tonight,” he tried, “Let’s just do that.” His friend’s parents probably wouldn’t appreciate Michael showing up in the middle of the night, so he’d have to go in through the window, but Jeremy probably wouldn’t complain.

Michael instantly felt a stab of guilt at the thought. Maybe elementary school Jeremy wouldn’t have minded his best friend showing up unannounced for a surprise sleepover, but the Jeremy of today would just go along with it because he’d be too afraid of what Michael would do to him if he dared to say no. He was disturbed to find himself even thinking of taking advantage of that fact.

It was a moot point either way. The Squip wasn’t on the porch anymore. It vanished in a wave of pixels and rematerialized directly in front of Michael, a hand darting out lightning quick to roughly grab the boy by his upper arm and yank him forward so he was nose to nose with the thing. It wasn’t exactly like being manhandled by an actual person, all the movement was coming from his own body, but the pressure of nails digging into the meat of his arm through his shirt and the feeling of hot breath on his face was convincing enough.

For a supercomputer designed to work with the human brain, restraining its host was as easy as telling his legs not to move, inflicting punishment merely required the stimulation of pain receptors. Simulating physical contact was comparatively complex and wholly unnecessary. Except as a gesture. When it came to Michael, those mattered.

There was a string of apologies building in his chest, but they were having trouble making it past the lump that had formed in his throat.

**You shouldn’t be speaking to me out loud anyways,** The Squip chastised, **You look like an idiot, talking to yourself.**

Michael felt a flash of indignation. Save for the two of them, the streets were empty. And judging by the deafening bass that was causing rhythmic vibrations in the glass windows of the house, the partying teens inside probably hadn’t heard anything either. _Oh fucking bite me_ , he thought, immediately regretting it and flinching in anticipation of a shock that didn’t come.

The Squip simply continued on as if it hadn’t heard, **You only have a few months left as an eighth grader, come August you’ll be attending Middleborough High. Establishing a presence in the minds of your popular upperclassmen will help you in achieving a suitable place in the school’s social hierarchy. If we establish a good foundation here tonight, we can work on building a decent reputation over the summer.**

_I don’t think crashing their party is going to have the effect you want. They’re just going to get mad._

**There’s a reason I don’t ask what you think on these matters, Michael,** the Squip scoffed. **There are dozens of teens in that house, they don’t all know each other, and right now the only thing they care about are the various ways they can get wasted or laid before their spring break ends. No one is going to waste energy questioning an unfamiliar face.**

The grip on his arm tightened, and Michael wondered if it could cut off blood flow if it wasn’t real, **I have run every possible simulation of tonight, and as long as you** **_do exactly as I say_ ** **, things should turn out in our favor. Is that understood?**

Weird Al’s face was oddly suited for intense glares, and Michael found himself unable to keep eye contact, and settled for glaring down at the sidewalk. The Squip’s view of a favorable outcome rarely aligned with his own.

**What if I put it this way? There is at least one possible future where Jeremy trips on the stairwell at school on Monday and breaks his wrist.**

Something clenched painfully in Michael’s chest. Why did everything always come back around to hurting Jeremy? _Okay, fine. Let’s just get this over with._

**Excellent!** The Squip released its grip on his arm, leaning back to rub its hands together gleefully, all smiles now that Michael had relented. It materialized itself back up onto the porch, gesturing grandly at the front door.

Swallowing down a growing sense of dread, Michael followed.

  
  
**..................**

As it turned out, the Squip was dead on about the lack of scrutiny the partygoers would give to their uninvited guest. Michael had made his way to what seemed like the living room without anyone seeming to care about the obvious middle schooler in their midst. Most people were already well on their way to being blackout drunk, and probably wouldn’t have recognized their own parents if they busted in at that moment.

Despite the orders to do exactly as instructed, the Squip wasn’t forthcoming with any specific commands once they were inside. Since it was his choice for the moment, Michael opted for the route of least social interaction. He found a semi-suitable hiding spot next to a large wooden hutch. He wedged himself into the corner made by the furniture and the wall, the pressure against his side and back making him feel a little less exposed, and stared out over what he could observe of the party.

There were multiple conversations happening at once, with students shouting to be heard over the music and each other. Somewhere in the room a guy was yelling along to the lyrics. Everything was so aggressively loud, Michael could feel the vibrations of the noise under his skin and had to resist the urge to cover his ears. He settled for digging his nails into the wall behind him, hard enough that it would probably leave crescent shaped indents in the paint. 

A number of people, probably with the help of alcohol, had shed their inhibitions and were dancing together in the center of the room. Michael spotted a girl who must’ve watched the same kinds of documentaries as him, because if he wasn’t witnessing some kind of human rendition of the peacock spider mating dance, he’d eat his glasses. It seemed like it was going well, judging by how flustered the other girl was beginning to look. At the very least she hadn’t literally bitten the flailing girl’s head off, which is the typical sign of rejection if invertebrates were anything like teenagers.

Eventually someone was bound to notice the creeper hovering at the edge of the room. As the song died out, a girl broke away from the amorphous mass of people and strode deliberately over to Michael’s corner. She was staring him down with a scrutinizing look, and a chiptune game over theme sounded in Michael’s head. Between the wall and the furniture and the girl, there wasn’t a route of escape.

“Well this is just unacceptable,” the girl tsked disapprovingly at the cornered kid, reaching out and grabbing his wrist. Technically this was the first time Michael had been touched by an actual person all day, but he was already getting sick of it. He didn’t fight her though as she pulled him out of his hiding spot and away from the dancing teens. “You look fucking miserable, come with me.”

_Squip, help! What’s happening?_ Michael was led into a large kitchen area. It was significantly quieter than the other room, with only a few people browsing through a selection of pizza boxes. The strange girl released his wrist to fetch a couple of red solo cups from a plastic bag.

**She has a vested interest in making sure people are enjoying themselves.** The Squip reappeared leaning against what was probably a pantry door, eyes on the young woman as she ladled a pinkish drink into the cups.

Realization dawned on Michael, _This is her party?! She’s got to know I don’t belong here!_ The urge to flee came, but fear or the Squip kept him rooted in the kitchen. 

**Does she seem upset?**

She didn’t, she was speaking conversationally over her shoulder, “Were you coming with Abby? I knew she was going to flake the minute Dan mentioned pot. Like I totally get it if it’s not your thing, but are you really so straight edge that you can’t be in the same _house_ as some stoned guys? Like, _really_?”

**Go with it.**

Michael swallowed, “Uh, she didn’t say anything to me. I thought she’d be here.”

The girl tsked again, “ _Total_ flake,” she pressed one of the cups into Michael’s hands. Once he'd accepted it from her, instead of stepping back she slid a hand up his arm to loop around his elbow. His first instinct was to try and twist away from her, but the Squip vetoed it, and forced his body along with her as she led him back to the other room. “Trust me, we can have plenty of fun without her.”

Michael ended up getting sat down on the edge of the living room's sectional couch, with the party’s host next to him, her weight pushing him against the couch’s arm. On the one hand, the couch was packed and they were lucky to have a place to sit at all, so contact was totally reasonable. On the other hand there was a strange girl with her arm over his shoulder going off on how immature this Abby girl he also didn’t know was, that she couldn’t handle anything more adult than a slumber party, and how she was always going after freshman guys who were somehow able to handle themselves more like a senior than goddamn _Abby,_ and Michael was a primo example and she could totally tell that he was more mature than some seniors she knew, and holy shit what was going on?

**It would seem that she likes you,** The Squip responded simply from where it was watching the other teens on the couch playing some sort of card game.

That didn’t make any sense, he’d hardly said anything to her so far. Outside of answering “Michael” when she’d asked for his name, he’d mostly only needed to make vague ‘I’m listening’ noises while she carried the bulk of the conversation.

**Irrelevant.**

“Do you like the punch? The ice might’ve watered it down a bit,” the girl asked. Michael had completely forgotten he was holding it.

“S’good,” He said, and took a drink to prove it. He’d _known_ it had to be alcoholic, but somehow still managed to be caught off-guard by the bitter taste. He’d probably have tried to subtly spit the stuff back into his cup if the Squip hadn’t intervened to make him swallow.

**She literally just called you mature five seconds ago, don’t ruin that by acting like a child.**

Michael didn’t care if some touchy girl thought he was mature or not. If she saw him as gross, then maybe she’d keep her hands to herself. The Squip’s stare hardened, and Michael felt a jolt of pain go up his spine. He disguised his flinch by bringing the cup back up to his mouth for a longer drink. It’s not like he’d never wondered what getting drunk would feel like, but he’d be a lot more comfortable if he was trying it alone in his basement. 

“You’re kind of a quiet guy, huh?” the girl observed, as if she’d been leaving him much room to talk if he’d wanted to. Her voice took on a teasing tone, “Strong and silent type? Or am I making you _nervous?_ ”

**You don’t know what to say around pretty girls.**

Michael cringed internally, but paraphrased the Squip’s line back to the girl. The words felt pretty stiff as he spoke them, but judging by the amount of teeth her grin was now showing, she didn’t mind all that much.

“You’re so sweet,” The girl cooed, and Michael was intensely relieved when her arm slid off his shoulder as she leaned forward to deposit her cup on the coffee table. 

**She’s going to kiss you.**

_What?!_ Michael almost choked on the drink he’d been taking, _I don’t want her to do that! How do I make her not?_

**You don’t,** the Squip deadpanned as the girl’s hands returned to adjust Michael’s position on the couch. Instead of obeying his brain’s command to retreat, his body followed her guidance so that he was facing her with his back against the arm of the couch, one of his legs was brought up so that she could move between them.

From his new position, Michael could see more of the couch’s other occupants. Aside from a couple of smirking individuals, most of them seemed to be deliberately looking elsewhere. None of them were going to be any help by the looks of it.

**Relax Michael, it’s keikaku no ichibu.**

“Wuh?” Michael was feeling a bit hysterical, and failed to voice his confusion internally, but the Squip seemed to be a bit taken off guard itself, and didn’t shock him for it.

“I said just relax,” The girl answered in a low murmur, one of her hands was moving up his side as she leaned over him, the other came up to cup the side of his face. Nothing stopped him from flinching away this time, and Michael realized he was back in the driver’s seat for his body.

Over the girl’s shoulder the Squip was starting to look a bit insubstantial, tracking poorly with Michael’s eye movement and glitching in and out of view. **Michael, listen to me,** The Squip started rattling off what was probably a series of orders, but kept switching between English and Japanese as it spoke. Between that and the glitching, Michael had no idea what it was trying to communicate. He caught a few words like drink, stay, and shutdown, but couldn’t make any sense of it. 

“Hey kiddo, I’m over here,” the hand on his face tightened its grip somewhat to redirect Michael’s attention back towards the high school girl.

Michael was a little beyond nervous at this point. The Squip was still screeching at him in multiple languages, while the girl’s face was getting much too close for comfort. He jerked his head at the last minute and her mouth ended up colliding with his cheekbone, knocking his glasses askew. The world became blurry, with the Squip’s artificial projection being the only thing to remain in focus, Michael saw its expression twist into something dangerous. It looked like it was about to say something, but the glitching overtook it again, causing it to flicker in and out of sight for a few seconds before vanishing altogether.

The girl above him shifted so that her weight was bearing down on Michael, her knees digging into his thighs, “Hey, you’re okay,” she said in a way he thought was meant to be soothing, but contrasted with how vice-like her grip had become.

The Squip hadn’t reappeared yet. There was no way Michael could do this. “Let me up.”

Maybe she hadn’t heard him over the music, or maybe she just wasn’t listening. She was mumbling something against his temple about not telling Abby. Michael was beyond giving a shit about her weird beef with whoever the fuck Abby was. He finally remembered the existence of his arms and pushed up against her chest to dislodge her. He’d forgotten he was still holding his own drink.

The girl shrieked as the red cup crumpled against her clavicle, and the punch sprayed up onto her jaw and face. In surprise, she fell back against the card game teens, and the newly freed Michael quickly scrambled off of the couch.

“Uh, sorry,” He said as he restored the position of his glasses. As the world cleared, he could see her expression morphing from surprise to one that eerily echoed the Squip’s right before it had disappeared. “Great party,” Michael croaked, taking a step back, “glad I came.”

He ran. 

**..................**

Michael didn’t know how long it took him to get home, he ran a good portion of the way, but his progress was a bit spotty when he froze at every shadow and sound, having to stop and wait until his breathing was under control. A tall figure with curly hair walking on the opposite side of the street nearly sent him into a panic, until he realized Weird Al had never appeared to him in heels and a dress.

He called out to the Squip a few times, even apologized and offered to go back to the party, though he doubted even the Squip could smooth over the dumpster fire he’d caused. There was no disembodied voice, it didn’t shock him when he spoke out loud to it, it didn’t rematerialize at all the entire way home.

It seemed like it was just… gone.

Michael wondered what could’ve happened to it. The Squip hadn’t glitched out like that in the entire time he’d been plagued by it. Maybe he’d had some sort of a panic seizure or stroke that had shorted it out? Michael was kind of shaky and lightheaded, but it didn’t feel like he’d had some kind of brain attack. He wasn’t sure if stress could make an eighth grader have a stroke or whatever. Still, if the Squip didn’t reappear, maybe he could look up if the brain could produce electricity and short out a computer.

Maybe it had just run out of juice? Michael had always assumed it ran off his own body’s energy like the hellish parasite that it was, but maybe it ran on an internal battery of some kind, and it _had_ been running for over a year now… the end of summer would’ve marked two years with the thing. Controlling Michael’s body against his will had to take up a decent amount of energy, and that’s what it had been doing when it started to freak out.

Michael began to feel a bit giddy. The Squip might’ve just straight up _died_ , it might not come back _at all._ The nightmare that had been the last twenty months of his life might be over!

Once he arrived back home, he all but collapsed against his front door. He didn’t know why, but he was shaking worse than before he’d had his epiphany. It was gone, that was good, better than good, yet there were tremors wracking his body like he’d been out all night in a blizzard and shorts, and his eyes were starting to sting. He blinked rapidly. There wasn’t a reason to cry, the Squip would give him hell for it.

_Or it would,_ Michael reminded himself, _if it wasn’t dead._

Somehow, despite the frankly ridiculous things his body was doing, Michael managed to unlock the front door and get inside. His intention was to close the door quietly behind him and head down to the basement without waking his mothers, but his clumsy movements caused it to slam shut with a noise that echoed through the dark house.

Rustling and muffled voices sounded from down the hall where his moms slept, and a moment later Rachel appeared in a bathrobe, finding Michael still staring at the door like it had intentionally betrayed him.

“Michael?” her tone was odd, like she couldn’t decide between rage and concern. “What are you doing here it’s-” She squinted up at the clock hanging in the kitchen, “-almost one thirty!”

Michael didn’t know how to respond to that, “Sorry,” he said lamely.

She took in the sight of him, and seemed to make up her mind to be more concerned at the moment. She crossed the kitchen to her son, grabbing his face and inspecting it like she’d find answers written on his skin. Maybe the girl at the party had left her lipstick stamped under his eye, that’d be something. “Who brought you home? You're shaking! Did you and Jeremy fight? Was it his mother?”

Michael blinked stupidly. Weird. Was she asking if he’d fought with Jeremy’s mom or if she’d brought him home? “I wasn’t at Jeremy’s, I went to a party.”

The hands on his face stiffened and Michael shook himself free, taking a step back. Rachel hadn’t ever hurt him, she wasn’t trying to, he just- he'd had enough of people grabbing at him for one night. He saw Analyn was there now, too, standing behind Rachel’s shoulder, both of them looking a bit stunned. “You were at a _what?_ ”

“I didn’t want to!” He insisted quickly, forgetting to keep his voice down, “I left as soon as I got the chance!”

Analyn shook her head, “ _Jeremy_ made you go to a party?” She asked in disbelief.

“No! He doesn’t know anything about it, it wasn’t his fault!” They couldn’t get mad at Jeremy because of this, “I was never at his place! The Squip made me tell you I was going to Jeremy’s house, and made me go to the party, and wouldn’t let me leave, but then it disappeared and I-”

“Who’s ‘Theskwip’? I’ve never heard that name before, is this someone you met at school?”

“No,” Michael shook his head emphatically, one hand coming up to tug at his hair in frustration. How did he explain any of this? “It was those guys at the Payless!” He pointed to his feet, which didn’t seem to help his mothers’ confusion. Of course it wouldn’t, he didn’t even own that pair of shoes anymore. The Squip wasn’t nearly as reluctant as Michael had been about getting rid of old things. “The guys at the Payless,” he repeated, “they were selling these mind-control computer pills on the side and I caught them and they made me take one and it’s been making me,” He faltered a bit, thinking of every cruel thing he’d ever said or done to Jeremy, “ Making me do things I don’t want to do... and it made me go to the party but then it just,” he imitated an explosion sound, “just freaked out and shut off and I came home!”

Analyn and Rachel were wearing matching expressions of bafflement, “You took drugs from a shoe store clerk?”

“No! It’s like a computer in your brain, it-it looked like Weird Al…”

That seemed to startle a laugh out of Rachel, but she caught herself, “Honey, it sounds like you had a really weird nightmare…”

Michael felt his stomach sink. He was messing this up, it was too weird, “You don’t believe me.”

Analyn inched forward, opening her arms in the invitation for a hug. Michael accepted it, burying his face into her shoulder. “I believe something’s got you upset,” she said reassuringly, “And I believe… it would definitely take something like mind control to get my son to go to a party on his own.”

“Yeah,” Michael mumbled thickly, and felt his eyes starting to sting again as he concentrated all his energy on not breaking into pieces. He was managing okay, focusing on his breathing, when Rachel wrapped her arms around both him and Analyn, the extra contact shattering his resolve, and he choked out a sob into his nanay’s shoulder.

It took a while to get himself back under control. At some point during his breakdown he ended up on the couch between the two women. 

“Are you feeling better now?” Analyn asked when the last of Michael’s hiccuping sobs evened out, she sounded as exhausted as he felt.

Michael nodded, he was still sniffling pathetically, and now on top of everything he had a killer headache. They didn’t believe him about the Squip, and why would they? Michael didn’t know why he’d tried. In a way though, it was good to have it off his chest, and the important thing was that the Squip was gone. He had his brain to himself for the first time in forever, and he was definitely going to take that win. Maybe he could come up with a better way to explain things to his moms after he’d had some more time to think about, well, everything. “Sorry,” he mumbled, “I woke you guys up.”

Rachel grunted, “You’re more important than sleep,” her eyes were closed though, and her words were slurring together as she reached out blindly for Michael’s head to ruffle his hair. “None of us have anywhere to be in the morning, anyways.”

“I don’t want you walking alone at night again though,” Analyn chastised lightly, “it’s not safe. Call next time, no matter how late it is, and we’ll come and get you, okay?”

Michael could’ve laughed, the Squip had him going behind their backs and ignoring curfew all the time. “Yeah, okay,” he agreed anyways, finding no point in confessing to extra crimes.

Eventually exhaustion got the better of the three of them, and Rachel and Analyn walked Michael down to his room. He wondered if they were afraid he’d break down again if left alone. He might, actually. He was feeling pretty emotionally frayed at the moment. He watched them disappear back upstairs, and found himself alone in his room for the first time in almost two years.

Michael collapsed onto his bed, but despite the weariness seeped into his bones, he didn’t fall asleep.

His room wasn’t the same as it had been before the Squip, most signs of his interests that it hadn’t approved of had been removed, mostly toys and comic books. Maybe he would’ve gotten rid of them on his own, it was normal for interests to change as people got older. His moms had never found it suspicious, even when he’d gotten rid of his entire collection of Magic The Gathering cards, including the one that Jeremy had given him for his birthday.

_Jeremy._

He wasn’t going to have to hurt Jeremy anymore. He could finally apologize for every injury and insult he’d ever inflicted on the other boy, tell him that he never meant any of it.

Not sitting up, he fished his phone out of his pocket and began scrolling through his contact list, pausing over Jackson’s name right before he got to Jeremy. Jackson still had his Squip, Michael would have to deal with that… somehow convince him that the Squips were bad news, and figure out what had killed his own so that they could get rid of all of them for good.

But Jeremy first.

He couldn’t call this late at night, his friend was definitely still asleep. He couldn’t just dump everything he wanted to say into a text, he’d seem insane, or Jeremy would assume it was a prank or a joke. He needed to do this in person, it was the only way he’d have a chance at sounding believable. He bit the inside of his cheek, trying to think of a way to tell Jeremy they needed to talk without making the other boy anxious.

Eventually he settled on something.

_‘Hey Jeremy, can you ask your parents if you can come over tomorrow? Or if I can go over there? No pressure or anything but I have something important to tell you and I don’t think you’d believe it if I can’t explain it in person.’_

Michael read the text over again several times, until he was sure there was no way Jeremy would assume he was in trouble, then moved to hit send before he lost his nerve.

Except he couldn’t seem to make himself hit the button. Michael felt the unfortunately familiar sensation of his body moving without his input as he deleted the drafted text and wrote out something else.

_‘Jeremy if my moms ask where I was last night, tell them I was at your place but that I was gone before you woke up’_

Michael watched himself send the text, dread settling in his gut like a heavy stone. He threw the phone off the bed like it had grown teeth. It landed at the feet of a tall figure with curly hair.

The Squip’s eyes flickered from the phone on the ground to the boy on the bed, **I’ve really been remarkably patient with you,** it sighed, voice deceptively neutral. Michael curled in on himself, shutting his eyes tight and feebly hoping that he’d actually fallen asleep as soon as he’d hit the bed, and this was just his subconscious being a dick. A wave of agony tore up his spine, effectively shattering that hope. **_Look at me when I’m talking to you._ **

He opened his eyes. It was closer than it had been before, kneeling by the bed in front of his face. Michael’s heart was beating deafeningly in his ears as the thing studied him. He should’ve known it wasn’t really gone, that it was some kind of trick.

It shocked him again.

**Don’t be ridiculous, I didn’t trick you. The alcohol affected my systems faster than I had accounted for, but I specifically told you to stay at the party and to follow Kayla’s lead.**

Was that the girl’s name? Michael shook his head. _You were speaking Japanese. I don’t-_

Another shock. **I didn’t ask for your input. Alcohol temporarily resets my functions to factory conditions, I needed to power down until you sobered up to prevent damages. It appears you were unable to function responsibly in my absence.**

_Sorry,_ Michael thought weakly. Why couldn’t it have just been dead?

The Squip’s eyes narrowed, **You don’t know what ‘sorry’ feels like, Michael.** It stood up and stepped away from the bed, crossing its arms behind its back. **Why don’t we review everywhere your conduct failed while I was offline, and see if we can’t cultivate some actual remorse in you?**

That didn’t sound good. _I’m really sorry! I didn’t know!_

**You didn’t know you’d get in trouble** , The Squip clipped dismissively, **You began disobeying the instant I lost access to your nervous system** , Michael remembered the Squip’s enraged look after he’d avoided the girl’s first attempt to kiss him. **Yes. Let’s begin there.**

Anticipating the shock didn’t make it much easier to weather. Michael grit his teeth through the spike of pain and waited for it to subside.

**Now why was it wrong?**

_What?_

The pain peaked again suddenly. Michael flinched and buried his face in his blanket.

**I’m not just listing these off for fun, Michael, you need to learn from your mistakes. Why was it wrong that you avoided that kiss?**

_Because you wanted me to kiss her?_ The Squip tsked and shocked him again, not good enough apparently. _Because… because of the social hierarchy thing? Kissing her would’ve been good for my reputation?_

**Better,** The Squip allowed Michael a moment to breathe before it continued. **Next you told her to get off.**

_I shouldn’t have done that!_ Michael thought, _I was supposed to follow through, and use her to-_ The Squip interrupted with another shock.

**Don’t try and go ahead of me, Michael, I want this lesson to sink in. But yes, you’re on the right track. After that, you physically shoved her to get away.**

Michael groaned, it hadn’t even mentioned dousing her with punch yet.

The Squip proceeded to go over everything Michael did while it was deactivated, shocking him for every mistake and again for every time he failed to explain what he’d done wrong. It found a few thoughts to shock him for as well, like being relieved when he learned Kayla wouldn’t be useful anymore and he probably wouldn’t see her again, or for thinking the Squip was nitpicking when it counted each time he’d called out to it audibly on his way home as a separate offense.

Michael was too exhausted for time to have any real meaning to him at this point, but it felt like hours before the Squip got to his confrontation with his moms. **You told them about Squips.**

_They didn’t believe me,_ Michael thought mournfully.

**Of course they didn’t, who** **_would_ ** **believe you?**

An evil pill-sized supercomputer sold out of the backroom of a shoe store? Heck, it was his life, and Michael didn’t always believe it.

**For now it’s beneficial to us if we play into their belief that you overreacted to a nightmare,** The Squip said **, If they become troublesome we’ll need to have them squipped.**

Michael blanched, _You can’t do that!_

**Has nothing I’ve said tonight sunk in!?** The Squip actually shouted, and Michael retreated to the back of his bed, **You do not make the calls here!**

_I know but…_ please _don’t squip them…_ His moms were the last semblance of ‘normal' his life had left, he wasn’t even allowed to be himself around Jeremy, he couldn’t lose that.

**You’re an unbelievably selfish child. Does it never occur to you to think about anyone other than yourself?**

Michael curled up miserably, _Please don’t._

**Anyone who knows about Squips needs to be equipped with one if the plan is going to succeed.**

_I won’t try to tell anyone again! I won’t try to make them believe me._

The Squip watched him in silence for a long moment, eyes narrowed as it considered something, **It’s better to focus our resources on the student body for now, your mothers would not be particularly useful for spreading Squips within the school.**

Michael nodded, trying not to cry with relief. _Okay. Thank you._

**Most Squips don’t have to deal with the level of defiance I put up with from you, Michael. Most humans who take a Squip** **_want_ ** **to improve themselves, but not you.**

Michael hadn’t ever asked for-

He tried to squash that thought down, _I know. Sorry._

**You aren’t. But you’re getting there. Now… explain to me why it was wrong to tell your mothers about Squips.**

  
  


**..................**

Eventually the Squip ran out of things to punish Michael for, and gave him permission to sleep through what was left of the night. He couldn’t manage to drift off though, despite the emotional and physical exhaustion. He just lay on top of his blankets in an unthinking stupor.

The gears in his head only started moving again some hours later when he felt fingers moving through his hair. It wasn’t either of his moms, the Squip was imitating human touch again. Michael wasn’t present enough to feel disturbed and move away, and just focused on the feeling of it.

**I only use the bare minimum force to accomplish what is necessary to achieve my program’s goal,** The Squip was explaining, **In the future, if I ever need to go offline for any reason, you won’t make the same choices you did yesterday. So we shouldn’t have a repeat of last night’s lesson.**

Michael had seen a study, or a documentary, he didn’t really remember, but it said that physical punishment like hitting didn’t really work on kids. Instead of teaching them that an action or behavior was wrong, it only taught them to avoid punishment, and they’d just do better at hiding their rule breaking.

**I’m inside your brain Michael, you can’t do anything behind my back.**

There was another study about giving mice depression by putting them in a cage and shocking them until they gave up trying to escape.

**The experiment you’re thinking of is a bit more complicated than that, but is possibly more relevant to your situation. You cannot escape, and it’s good that you’re realizing this. But unlike with the rodents, the punishments you experience are completely avoidable, if you obey me,** the Squip pulled its hand away, and Michael followed it with his eyes as it moved across his room to the stairway, **Now get up, Jeremy is coming over today and we need to inform Rachel and Analyn.**

Michael was suddenly wide awake and very present, sitting bolt upright in his bed, _What? Why?_ The Squip had stopped him from inviting Jeremy over last night, what did it want with the other boy now?

**I stopped you from doing something incredibly stupid and detrimental to the plan,** The Squip corrected, **Spring Break is over tomorrow and there are things we need to touch base with him on before school.**

That was… fine. It wouldn’t be good, it was never good, but Jeremy was used to Asshole Michael, and the Squip probably wouldn’t get violent with Michael’s moms in the house. He got up slowly and followed the Squip upstairs.

**..................**

Jeremy arrived early in the afternoon, when Michael was back in his basement setting up his game system. He heard the front door open and close, but it was nearly ten minutes before Jeremy appeared at the top of the stairs. Meaning he’d run into Michael’s parents.

“Why were your moms asking me about evil cashiers and drugs?” Jeremy asked as he reached the bottom of the steps, sounding a mix between bewildered and amused. He seemed to be in an okay mood, but he still hung back until Michael gestured for him to take a beanbag.

The Squip didn’t give him a prompt, so Michael just shrugged, “I don’t really remember what I told them last night, I was really drunk.” He’d only had three mouthfuls of watered down punch, but it was the best thing he could come up with.

“You were drunk?” Jeremy exclaimed in shock, Michael couldn’t tell from his face if he was impressed or horrified, “And your moms didn’t notice?”

Another shrug, Michael grabbed the player two controller and passed it to the other boy, who was staring at him fish-faced. “What did you tell them?” the Squip asked with his mouth.

Jeremy looked a little uncomfortable now, and he pretended to inspect the analog stick on his controller, “What you said in your text, you were at my place last night, but you were gone before I woke up. I said we were watching some old horror flicks and you might’ve gotten freaked out by one. You know how in Dawn- ow!”

Michael’s hand had darted out to grab Jeremy’s wrist, “Dude, you can’t just ad lib whatever you want!”

“I’m sorry!” he shrieked, trying to pull his arm back, and only causing the Squip to hold him more firmly.

“I’m serious, Jeremy, you could’ve really screwed me over,” it said, digging Michael’s thumb harshly between the bones of Jeremy’s wrist and beginning to twist it slightly. “You could’ve contradicted something I already told them.”

_But he didn’t! You were going to hurt him no matter what he said! Let him go!_

**I shouldn’t have to tell you that you aren’t in charge. I told you last night that if you disobeyed Jeremy would break his wrist.**

_You said- you said he was going to trip at school._

**I said both things, I never claimed one event would cause the other. It’s not my fault you always assume that you know everything.**

Jeremy’s face was turning red, and he was stammering out a series of apologies that the Squip wasn’t hearing. 

_I’m sorry, okay? I don’t know what else to apologize for!_ He felt Jeremy’s bones shift under his fingers and felt nauseous. _My moms are here, you can’t just break his wrist and have nobody notice! Even if Jeremy doesn’t tell on us, a doctor will know he didn’t just fall!_

**You sound confident. Do you want to test that?** The Squip asked.

_No! No… I don’t know what you want!_

The grip on Jeremy’s arm loosened, and the Squip allowed the smaller boy to jerk his arm back. **Your actions have consequences beyond what happens to yourself, Michael. I just want you to understand that.**

Michael was pretty sure he understood that pretty well. He had let the Squip ruin Jeremy’s life all because he couldn’t stand the idea of being alone. “You dropped my controller,” he heard himself say, before turning on the game.

“Yeah… uh, sorry…” Jeremy mumbled, trying to flex feeling back into his fingers before leaning down to retrieve the fallen object.

They played in silence for a while, Jeremy noticeably struggling more than usual with the game, his fingers moving clumsily over the buttons. Michael tried to watch his friend’s back in the game, hoping player two would pick up on the apology the Squip wouldn’t let him say out loud.

Things weren’t comfortable, but were starting to veer closer to neutral when the Squip paused the game and looked over at Jeremy, “I need you to sit somewhere else at lunch tomorrow.”

“Wuh…?” Hurt flashed across the other boy’s face, but he quickly hid it, “Okay, no problem… can I ask why?”

“Jackson wants Jake Dillinger to sit with us tomorrow, and you kind of skeeve him out so…” The Squip shrugged. Michael didn’t know if that was even true, but if it was Jake could fuck right off. Jeremy was awesome! But the Squip wanted him to think he was the most unlikable kid in school, and it sadly didn’t seem to take much convincing.

Jeremy swallowed thickly and repeated, “Okay, no problem,” he gave a fake smile, “Uh… where do you want me to go instead?”

“I couldn’t care less as long as you stay out of the way.”

The Squip unpaused the game and resumed playing without waiting for Jeremy to ready himself. It prefered to keep him off balance, and Michael was sure it not giving specific orders about lunch tomorrow was another aspect of that. No matter what Jeremy did, the Squip was going to find a way to disapprove of it.

Not for the first time, Michael wondered why Jeremy didn’t just leave.

**I saw a study once about mice.**


End file.
